Of the Afterborns
by Curedmj
Summary: Still that same shell of a girl he found wandering in the Ettenmoors, a savage desert that was no place for her. Voreria remained impassive to the passing of her dear friend, she learned long ago that succumbing to the darkness did no one good.
1. Old Friends

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of the franchise. Anything you don't reconize is mine or LadyofEomer's.**

Chapter 1

The rain pounded against the cobblestone street and tin roofs, something not uncommon in the town of Bree. There was hardly a time where the small village did not get soaked through by a heavy rain. A hooded woman pursed her lips, her dark eyes searching around small town, looking for a simple wooden sign. Her breath showed on the chilly night air and she was instantly thankful for the cloak that hung around her shoulders. It kept out the rain and the cold which was the most she could ask for at that moment. Gloved fingers wrapped around the hilt of a sword at her side as some rather rough looking men passed her.

A smile finally graced her lips as she spotted the Prancing Pony. It was as quaint as the name suggested, as she entered through the door her ears were immediately bombarded by the sounds of laughter. It was warm and earthy, a certain naivety compared some of her earlier destinations. She scanned the pub, her eyes immediately going towards the dark corner where a hooded man sat. Her boots padded gently across the wooden floor, avoiding any creaks that might cause more suspicious glances. The hooded man glanced up, a puff of smoke escaping his mouth as he nodded for her to sit.

"Strider," she bowed her head, her voice coming out strong yet smooth. He pulled the pipe from his lips, giving the young woman a rather weak smile.

"It is good to see you well, Voreria," his voice was rough but remained firm as he spoke to his comrade and friend.

A smile that mirrored his spread across her lips,"we have much to discuss, my friend."

"You speak far older than you are," he chuckled softly, shaking his head.

"I am only a few decades younger than you," she spoke playfully though the smiles never reached her eyes.

"And you are still as rambunctious as ever," he commented before turning to a more serious note,"I heard of the attack near the old woods, is everyone unhurt?"

She looked down, studying the grain of the wooden table with a grim expression,"The Black Riders attacked when we were unprepared, many of our men were asleep at the time, slaughtered in their beds. We were able to scare them away, but I fear they are determined to get into the Shire. Morilia is dead, she was injured when they found her, the ring wraiths stabbed her with the Morgul-blade. She never stood a chance."

Strider reached out and wrapped his hand around hers, consuming it with his large one. He replied lowly, a small waver in his voice,"I am sorry, I knew what she meant to you."

Voreria quickly whipped her hand from his grip, shaking her head violently,"there is no bringing her back."

Strider looked at the woman, who was very much still a young girl in his eyes. Still that same shell of a girl he found wandering in the Ettenmoors, a savage desert that was no place for a young girl. Voreria remained in passive to the passing of her dear friend, she learned long ago that succumbing to the darkness did no one good, dead or alive.

"Alcarin was wounded as well but Elaviel was able to stop the poison from causing more damage," she said eager to change the subject,"what shall we do next Strider, the shire lies unprotected?"

Strider remained silent for a moment before his light eyes met her dark ones,"you shall have to draw the eyes away from the Halflings. Orcs have been seen near Fornost, take your band there. Perhaps it will distract them from the shire for a little bit."

Voreria nodded before pausing,"what is it they wish to get from going towards the shire? The hobbits are no threat to them."

"Only time can tell, hopefully we can stop them before they cause true damage," he told her sternly.

She stood up, grasping his forearm as he did hers,"until we met again, Strider."

"Be safe." He commanded.

"I will try."


	2. The Gang

Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Of course I do not own Lord of the Rings, it would be awesome if I did but I do not sadly. Voreria and her gang however are mine so stay away. Fornost is also not mine, you all have Lord of the Rings: War of the North to thank for that.**

Voreria's horse neighed beneath her, obviously not enjoying the eerie quietness of Fornost. Her eyes surveyed the barren courtyard of stone. She easily dismounted, her boots giving off a soft thump as she landed gracefully.

"It is far to quiet," she said after a moment, finally turning to look at her comrades. There were three others who had been traveling with her as long as she could remember.

Darryl she had known the longest, having gone through several years of ranger training and working under Strider. She trusted him with her life as he did her. He was only a few years older than her but his weathered skin and dark beard gave him a certain maturity to his appearance. He was a roughen compared to the others, his clothes always a little dirty, his hair always a little out of place. That was the way he liked it however, he didn't enjoy being seen as the gentle man he truly was.

Elaviel was the one Voreria got along with most, being a calm collected she-elf. She was Elaviel of the House of the Golden Flower, a healer from Mirkwood. She was also the center of many Bard's tales because of her beauty and cunning skill. Her bright blue eyes and dark hair was not so common in her home of Mirkwood but she never let that change who she was. She joined Voriera after a chance meeting during a battle against so Orcs, they saved each others lives.

The last member of the group was unlikely, a rider of Rohan named Alcarin. He was fair-haired, and dark eyed, much like the people of Rohan. He was also rather mouthy and sometimes attempted to force his beliefs upon others. However, he was passionate about his cause and would die for what he believed in. Which is exactly why he was a good match for the group of misfits.

"Then how about we make some noise?" Alcarin grinned wolfishly, raising one eyebrow. Voriera grinned, quite enjoying the idea.

"And if there is no one here?" Elaviel asked, looking at the twos' exchange,"we attract far more attention then needed."

Voriera shook her head, her dark locks bouncing off her shoulders,"Strider would not have sent us here without a true reason."

"I suppose you know Estel better than I," Elaviel retorted, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

Voriera smiled softly at her,"we will be fine and if we aren't then I'll take them all on by myself so you can get away."

Elaviel grinned,"you know I would never let you do that."

"Thank the gods, I was hoping you would not," Voriera spoke sarcastically, letting out an exaggerated puff of breath.

Alcarin was the one to speak next, practically rolling his eyes,"are we going to cause some trouble or not?"

Darryl let out a hearty chuckle and patted the other man on the back as the two women quickly headed into the eroding building.

Fornost was once a great citadel in the North. It stood proudly as a fortress for the Dunedain Kingdom of Arnor. Then the kingdom was divided into three different regions and Fornost became the capital of Arthedain. Its fall was as great as its glory, and sadly destruction came because of the Witch-king of Angmar in the Third Age, leading to abandonment and ruin. The crumbling structure stood for ages as a fearful place to many, the people of Bree calling it Deadman's Dike. Only rangers dared go inside, giving the dark forces a perfect place to hide and bring up an army.


	3. Wounded

**Disclaimer: I don't now own LOTR, simply things or people you don't recognize. **

Chapter 3

"You are wounded," Elaviel's voice carried upon the soft wind as she looked down her comrade with concern in her eyes. Voreria attempted to looked at the back of her shoulder, it had been noticed earlier but she had been to concerned with the large orc that was determined to cut her down. Crimson stained her white shirt though it unnoticed as it was mixed with dirt, sweat and the blood of her enemies. It was only a dull throb but she knew as soon as her adrenaline was gone it would be far more painful.

"Is it fatal?" Voreria asked, raising one dark eyebrow as she looked up at the elf maiden. Elaviel gave her a soft smile, leaning down to take a better look at the wound, earning a wince from Voreria as she probed the skin to hard.

"It is deep but not fatal as I can treat it," the elf answered,"but first you should clean up."

Voriera nodded knowing she was a sight to see covered in blood that wasn't hers, for the most part anyway. She quickly grabbed her knapsack, finding a change of clothes before heading towards a small creek. She stripped her clothing off, washing up as best she could in the shallow water, minding the wound. Her skin was back to it's bronze color and her hair was looking far less messy than it had been. She called to Elaviel knowing the elf would be able to hear her. In a matter of moments the elf was there, grabbing the bag on her hip and searching for some herbs. She walked to her friend, carefully placed the herbs upon the wound, hoping to cause the least pain as possible.

"We were lucky Elladan and Elrohir were there," Elaviel spoke after a few moments,"we were being overrun before the twins arrived."

Voriera let out an exasperated breath, quickly putting on her shirt before turning to the elf. She knew of the danger she had gotten the rest into, the weight fell heavily on her shoulders,"I know, I should not have asked you all to go barging into the ruins without a real plan or at least an estimate of how many were inside."

Elaviel looked at her sadly,"you did what you sought right, we would follow you no matter consequences."

"Which is exactly what I fear," she retorted, attempting to pull on her vest and ignoring the pain in her shoulder,"I do not wish for you to die because of my stupidity."

Elaviel shook her head, placing her hand on Voreira's unharmed shoulder,"you are far from stupid, my friend. Now take those doubts from your head and let us join the others."

She sighed softly but nodded, and was lead back to the camp they had sent up nearly an hour before. It was a simple camp, a fire pit that the men sat around, and some sleeping bags on the outskirts. They were never high maintenance, they couldn't afford to be. Among the men were Ellandan and Elorhir, the twin sons of Lord Elrond of Rivendell. They were half eleven much like their father and sister but that made them no less royal to the elves and they were no doubt extraordinary warriors. As they helped the gang from being overrun by orcs in Fornost.

"Thank you for your help," Voriera bowed her head to the two elves who returned the gesture.

"It is nothing, Voriera, we only happened to be in the same place at the same time," Ellandan retorted.

She smiled softly,"it was luck."

"Or destiny, it is hard to distinguish between the two," Elorhir continued, with a small smile as well.

"What shall you do next?" Alcarin asked, standing up from his seat in front of the fire.

Ellandan answered this time,"we must head back to Rivendell and give our father the news of Fornost."

"Of course," Voriera nodded,"Belain na le."

The elves smiled at the use of their own language, Elorhir nodded,"Calo anor na ven."

**Elvish Translations: **

Belain na le- The Valar be with you

Calo anor na ven- May the sun shine on your road


End file.
